The gospel of Itchy Wiggle Christ by Gregory-John McCormick, Ralf Dellhofen (best way to read books .TXT) 📕

quite know what to think about chinese girls. they are mysterious. almost everyone i knew was very smart, too. i have much respect for the chinese. my teachers were chinese, and i have the utmost respect for them, especially dr. wang and dr. yang. once i thought to take a chinese girl for a wife, at the suggestion of my teacher. it would suit me, so the suggestion went. maybe my total chaotic frame of mind would be balanced with a sensible chinese girl, i don´t know. it didn´t pan out, whatever the case. i did keep it in mind for the future, tho, and i am sure if i ever am married to the girl-of-my-dreams, she is a balancing aspect to my chaos. it is hard to say, especially when she never writes. not only her, tho - nobody writes me much anymore. 4 weeks and no letters. shit. and here i sit torturing myself by watching milla jovovich and bai ling and who the hell knows what girl. i must stop it, and relax, and try to sleep, but i´m geeked up from finishing my painting, naja. tomorrow is another day in hell. ´til then, dear reader - g´night.

 

one day a real rain will come and wash all the filth off the face of this stinking earth. and a happy good morning to you, too. can any of you imagine what it is like to wake up in hell every morning? in an enclosed world filled with schwarze faggots and child molesters, loud-mouthed assholes screaming hip-hop shit? not being able to go to the toilet for fear of being gang raped by schwarze predators lurking in the toilet stalls? this is my world, my earth, and yours too, if what i write means anything to you. maybe you can understand my madness.

 

to see the human condition in all its deformity in this pit of hell, it makes me wonder so very often how it is humans ever survived - because if this hell is any indication, humans certainly did not evolve, at least not much further than some low-brow beast dwelling in a cave and beating deers over the head with a club for dinner. a sort of venison big mac, circa 8.000 B.C., ha ha. it is just so unbelievable to me, that humans are what they claim to be, some type of sentient enlightened being. i can believe that cave men of the past were more enlightened to their world than modern humans - a cave man was in touch with nature, one with his environment. the filth and scum that is the modern-day human is such a waste. i know that to use these monsters in here is not quiete fair if i want to say "this is humanity" - but these monsters in here are a product of humanity. these monsters are created by your society. and since americans so painfully enforce the law that "all men are created equal", guess what chuckles? according to the usa, you and everyone you know is equal and the same as any schwarze homo child-raping predator in this prison of hell. and since the usa now owns the world, this applies to all of the world, even my beloved comrades in europa. but this is only what the usa enforces at the point of a gun - it does not mean it is true, and i do not believe it for one second. i will die before admitting i am equal to any of the filthy schwarze monsters in this place. i would rather die than ever say those beasts are equal to me. i think they should all be shot, but then again, i´m not the one holding a gun to the world´s head. it is the usa, land of the "free" - ja, and if you believe there is freedom in the usa, i would like to talk to you about some vacation land in siberia i have for sale. i thought it strange back in the early ´80s when i first came to germany, how much germans strived for american culture - mcdonalds, blue jeans, ami-made cars and motorcycles. i´ve done my best to discourage germans and other europeans from buying into the american way of life, and hopefully this book will help even more. but i would like to suggest that you, as an enlightened european, open your eyes and see the usa for what it is: the next rome. rome fell when it freed the slaves and embraced christianity. the usa has done this shit also. think of your child or mother or wife getting raped by one of these schwarze predators screaming rap lyrics. and think before you buy your next big mac.

 

what a wonderful world, i say to myself, what a wonderful world. fat americans have a new "diet", where they only eat meat, thinking they will get skinny and beautiful. funny that so many of the models that americans use to compare themselves to, to see how they only wish they could look, are european. heidi klum comes to mind, there´s many others, i don´t know their names because i don´t pay much attention to models, but i know lots of them come from germany. so ja, go for it, you fat slob pig americans, eat more hamburgers and hot dogs and you will get hot and skinny like europeans, ha ha. well, continentals at least. there are a lot of american-like fatty english people. they eat boiled-salad sandwiches and kidney pies. kotzen! so if "you are what you eat" is true, it makes sense. english people as a whole are not very pretty. the food they eat in england is absolutely ghastly, and they are a ghastly bunch. but then again, it may have more to do with inbreeding, and inbreeding from a questionable breeding stock to begin with. look at prince charles - there is a walking shifted-chromosome mismatch example. but he is a shining gleaming hero for all retards of the world - prince charlie gives them hope that retards can become the king of england, so they can be content with their sewage-treatment plant jobs. i hope you have a lovely day. eat a boiled-salad sandwich, you dumb fuck. well, even that is better than eating a big mac.

 

i picked out the poison for envelopes. terror threats across the usa, uncle osama laughs, HA HA HA. when does that one perfect person finally complete me? such disappointment, no mail again, no mail again. i am completely forgotten. i am celebrating today, i have finished all my painting before the cutoff date to mail my shit - altho i must send my stuff to captain ralf, and since he is one of the few i care about who did not mail me anything for four weeks, i am not sure he is even there to get my paintings, so maybe all my work for the last 3 or 4 months will get lost. but then you would never be reading this if that were the case because all this writing shit is going into the same envelope. i seem paranoid, no? the fact remains that i have no mail, tho. i feel so fucking lonely and alone and forgotten. it´s really terrible. so i better get back to those envelopes now since my painting is finished. i have a nice new batch of chain letters, complete with a curse. you´ll be getting yours soon.

 

there once was an alcoholic bum named burt. he lived in detroit, he was white, divorced, 51 years old, and he lived in a refrigerator box behind a polish donut shop. when the donut shop threw out their donuts that were not sold, burt took the donuts out of the trash, ate some of the jelly-filled donuts, and sold the rest on the street corner. usually burt made enough money to buy himself a bottle of very cheap scotch whiskey, but he bought whatever he could with whatever he could make - wine, beer, even little one-shot bottles of gin if donut sales did not go well. burt´s life was simple and sad, but he had no choice - he could not stop drinking, ever, and he had no skills to get a job. besides, he was too old to get a job. america is not kind to the old even if they have enough money to live on, and to be homeless and jobless and old in america is analogous to a slow death sentence. burt had no real reason to live, but he was too much of a coward to kill himself. besides, he could not fathom using what little money he made from selling rotten old donuts to buy a package of razor blades to slit his wrists. he would rather have bought more booze. burt lived on alcohol how any other person lived on food and air.

 

when winter hit, burt would sleep inside the trash dumpster. it was a tricky situation, because he had to be sure that the donut shop people did not catch him in the dumpster. they would call the police, burt would be arrested, and burt would be put through the system yet another time. going to jail in itself was not the bad part, hell - the cops gave him food to eat and it was warm - but in being in jail, burt was unable to get booze, and that was unthinkable. any length of time away from booze was a total living hell for him. so burt avoided getting locked up, and after 15 years of living on the street, burt was getting quite good at avoiding the cops.

 

years ago, just before burt turned to the streets, he was married to a beautiful woman. sylvia was her name. sylvia was petite, with brownish-blond hair, a pretty face and shapely body - especially her tits. burt liked her tits very much. sylvia came from romania, burt met her at a church dance. they dated for six months before they married, and they married just before sylvia was kicked out of america. sylvia received her green card after her and burt were married, and soon after that the trouble began. burt did not want to admit it to himself, but there was always the small thought in the back of his mind that sylvia married him only so she could stay in america. he had heard that many women did this, especially ones that came from former communist-ruled countries, but burt could not believe that his sweet sylvia only married him for a green card. it just was not possible. no. eventually burt woke up to the truth when sylvia stopped coming home after going out with her friends. he thought of tailing her, to find out where she was going and spending her nights, but instead he stayed home and drank whiskey. he loved sylvia, and it was breaking his heart that she was out all night, night after night, but he would not get in her way if that was what she really wanted to do. he loved her that much - to give her all she wanted, even if what she wanted was not burt. so he drank, and he drank a lot. one morning burt woke up on the couch, the TV still blaring out some goddamned jesus shit - it was a sunday morning after all. he had gone through at least two bottles of whiskey the night before, and countless cans of beer. he had passed-out or blacked-out and only woke up that morning because he had to vomit very badly. burt shambled into the bathroom and heaved up his old booze, blood, and guts into the toilet. it was hideous, and tears streamed down burt´s face as he hung his head low, his face close to the water. he could see a reflection of his face in the toilet bowl water, and he did not recognize himself